


Still

by alwayssunnyprompts



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s07e01 Frank's Pretty Woman, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mac has an Anxiety Disorder, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 17:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayssunnyprompts/pseuds/alwayssunnyprompts
Summary: "Maybe he should be even more worried that Dennis isn’t putting up more of a fight, but he’s so relieved that he doesn’t care. He reaches over and ruffles Dennis’s hair gently, running his hand through the messy curls a few times before moving his hand to Dennis’s cheek. He feels the sharp angle of his cheekbone under his palm and feels like he’s going to be sick. How had he not noticed Dennis losing weight? How had him refusing food not been a red flag? "A missing scene from "Frank's Pretty Woman."





	Still

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

"Mac?” 

Mac frowns in response, glances at Dennis in the passenger seat of the Range Rover that's still firmly planted in the hospital parking lot. 

His heart rate spikes. 

Could that be the diabetes? He doesn't know, they hadn't exactly stuck around long enough to get the full briefing from the doctor. But Mac isn’t worried, he knows Dennis will make sure he’s healthy. He always has. But for now, he needs to make sure Dennis got some food in him. He can't imagine what skipping meals must be like. All those times Dennis refused food when he offered, was that related to this? With a sinking feeling, he thinks it must be, kicking himself for not forcing Dennis to at least eat some crackers or something. He hadn't known it was this bad. 

He starts as Dennis's hand reaches over to his arm, grabbing at his shoulder gently. 

"Mac?” 

He asks again, with a little more clarity.

"Yeah, Den?” 

"What are you thinking about?” 

He sounds cautious. Mac isn't even sure what exactly he's worrying about.  

"I don't know," he answers truthfully. 

"You don't have to worry about me, you know. I'm fine. I've always been fine.”

The shadows under his eyes tell a different story. For a second, Mac is offended, appalled by the fact that Dennis really thinks he's okay. Was he that desperate to believe his own bullshit? Mac wouldn't put it past him. 

He sighs, exasperated.

“No, Dennis, you aren’t fine. Didn’t you hear a word the doctor said? Normally I’d believe you, but you—you...,” he feels his eyes start to burn. “I don’t know. I was scared when you almost passed out back there. Really scared. Please, just...let me worry about you?” 

Dennis’s eyes clear a little, maybe start to soften. 

“Okay.” 

Maybe he should be even more worried that Dennis isn’t putting up more of a fight, but he’s so relieved that he doesn’t care. He reaches over and ruffles Dennis’s hair gently, running his hand through the messy curls a few times before moving his hand to Dennis’s cheek. He feels the sharp angle of his cheekbone under his palm and feels like he’s going to be sick. How had he not noticed Dennis losing weight? How had him refusing food not been a red flag? 

“Den,” he whispers, “I wish—” 

“No! Mac, this isn’t your fault.” He pulls Mac’s hand from his face quickly, holding it in both of his own. Mac’s heart swells.  

“I didn’t mean to—” Dennis takes a deep breath in and his eyes slide shut. His face looks gaunt and pale.

“Dennis? Are you okay?” He pulls his hand free and feels Dennis’s forehead. He’s sweating, but he doesn’t feel too warm. 

“Fine. Just tired,” his body pitches forward, and Mac catches him before his head can slam into the dash. 

“Goddamnit.” 

Mac gingerly rearranges Dennis in his seat, his head dangling unceremoniously forward. 

“Dennis!” 

He tries keeping one hand on his chest to stabilize him and the other gently shaking his shoulder. 

“Dennis, I’m not gonna drive with you passed out in the front seat next to me.” 

Dennis moans, some movement and life coming back to his limbs, though his arms still lay lax in his lap. His eyelids flutter repeatedly, his eyes rolling back as he tries to lift his head.

“Come on, Den. You can do it. Look at me, if you can,” he tilts Dennis’ chin upwards. 

When his eyes finally focus in on Mac, he looks confused and scared. Mac hasn’t seen him look like this before. He’s been delirious, but never this bad. Mac’s even seen him with a severe concussion, and that felt less horrifying than Mac feels now, safe in a car parked in the lot of a hospital. 

“Sorry, Mac,” he murmurs. “I’m tired.”  

“Of course you are! You need food to live, Dennis. Come on, we’re getting smoothies and then we’re going back home to eat some food.”

“But I—" 

“This isn’t negotiable, Dennis,” he puts on his best tough voice. “You can sleep after we get some food in you, okay?”

The way Dennis’s face crumples in defeat breaks Mac’s heart. 

“Okay.” 

After that, he closes himself off. His jaw clenched, his eyes empty.  

Mac has no idea what to do. Getting some food in Dennis is necessary, but he comes to the realization that he has no idea how to combat this situation long-term. He had thought they were doing okay. He’d been packing on mass so that he’d be strong enough to face whatever God threw at him, but this was so much more complicated than anything he could have imagined. He just can’t figure out _why_ Dennis would be acting this way. Was it because of that one time Dee had called him fat? Mac thinks it probably runs deeper than that, something far below the surface that Dennis fights to conceal. It makes Mac sick to think this is normal for him. Starving himself to the point where he can’t stand up anymore. All while Mac continues to get stronger. Guilt, hot and nauseating, builds dangerously in his stomach. 

He thinks back to the doctor’s office. He’d been so preoccupied with Dennis he’d barely paid any attention to what the doctor had actually said. The words “eating disorder” echo in Mac’s brain and he pushes them away. Wasn’t that something that teenagers had? Why would Dennis have that? No, that couldn’t be right. 

But all the times Dennis had said he wasn’t hungry, that he’d already eaten, that he claimed he was going out to dinner, those couldn’t just be a coincidence. 

As he looks down at the discharge papers the nurse handed him on the way out, he starts to feel overwhelmed and realization pulls at the edges of his brain. 

_Dehydration, malnourishment, anemia._

The list goes on and Mac feels horror building in his chest. He looks at some of the symptoms, hoping they won’t be too serious. 

_Dizziness, fatigue, lightheadedness, weakness, heart palpitations, fainting, headaches, anxiety, nausea—_

He sets the paper back down, his heart racing. His eyes wander back to Dennis, whose head is resting against the cool glass of the window, his face pale and eyes unfocused. He looks absolutely horrible.

_Like he’s dying,_ Mac’s brain supplies, unhelpfully.

He would give anything to see Dennis smile again. A real smile, not the empty kind that masks pain or the agonizingly smug grin when he gets his way or the way his mouth twitches just slightly when he gets close to Mac in public. He longs to see him look genuinely happy. He almost doesn’t even remember what that’s like. He wonders if Dennis does.  

“Den?”

“Hm?”

“Ready to go home?”  

“Okay.”

There’s no energy or emotion in his voice at all. He sounds drained and hollow, just like Mac feels.  

“Okay,” Mac replies, and starts the car. 

He drives carefully, trying to focus his nervous energy on the road instead of getting distracted by Dennis again. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off him, so he’s glad that driving requires so much attention—it’s something to force him to focus on anything other than Dennis.  

Not that it’s working. 

When they get home, he tries to keep his movements careful, almost clinical. He helps Dennis up the stairs and to the door of their apartment gingerly, keeping a steadying hand on his back as he shuffles listlessly wherever Mac points him. When they get inside, he guides him to the couch.  

“I’ll get you some water, okay?”

 No response.

He fills a small glass about halfway full. He doesn’t want Dennis to feel forced or intimidated; he wants to take things slow. Searching their kitchen drawers briefly, he finds a leftover straw from some night they got takeout and unwraps it, carefully placing it in the cup. With the blue and white vertical stripes, it seems a little childish, but he hopes Dennis might find it comforting, or, at the very least, easier to drink from than the glass directly.  

“Here,” he stands next to the couch holds the water in Dennis’s direction.

He lifts his head and opens his eyes, grabbing for the glass with both hands. Mac would think it was sweet, but he realizes that Dennis probably needs both hands to keep the glass from falling and then the pounding anxiety in his chest comes back. He can feel a tension headache forming in his temples.

Dennis notices the straw, a quick look of confusion crosses face, but then Mac swears he sees a tiny smile before his expression turns blank again. He sips the water slowly and deliberately. Mac sits down next to him, closer than Dennis would usually allow.  

When he finishes, he sets the glass down on the table in front of them, his eyes shifting over to Mac.

“Thanks,” he whispers, gratitude clear in his voice as he really locks eyes with Mac for the first time all day.  

Mac feels like he’s lost there for a minute, trapped in the desperation, the shame, the love, like all he knows is Dennis and his stupid eyes and his ridiculous life and how much he can’t live without him. But then he remembers Dennis has spoken, and he should probably reply.

“Of course.”  

He reaches over in a moment of adrenaline-fueled confidence and takes Dennis’s hand. Dennis looks apprehensive, but Mac feels him squeezing back.

“Dennis, you know I’d do anything for you.”

He blinks.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”  

He sounds almost annoyed, but his hand never leaves Mac’s, and he waits impatiently, hanging on Mac’s every word.

“So, let me do this, dude, just let me watch out for you. Nobody else needs to know, but I’ll check up on you, make sure you’re eating something. It doesn’t have to be a lot, okay? Whatever you want, just something to keep you going.” 

Mac hopes Dennis doesn’t feel like he’s being smothered. 

“I can’t...I can’t promise that, Mac. You can’t make me promise that. It’s too hard.” 

His eyes are watery, he looks down at their interlocking hands. 

“Okay, you don’t have to promise. I will. I promise to watch out for you even when you can’t watch out for yourself. I’ll make you lunch so you don’t forget to eat. But even if you do, that’s okay, Den, because any progress is good progress, right?” He remembers the doctor saying as much. “It’s gonna be—wait, what’s wrong?”

Dennis is crying. Not loudly or dramatically, but tears are definitely there, rolling slowly down his cheeks. Maybe he’s too tired to pour more energy into it. But he doesn’t look sad, not more than usual. 

“Keep talking.” 

The words come out so honest and vulnerable that he almost doesn’t sound like Dennis.  

“Okay,” Mac continues slowly, concern still fluttering in his chest. “Like, I was saying, I’ll make you lunch, every day if you want, we can even make food together? Would that make it more fun or more stressful? Maybe we should just go out instead. Either way, we’ll get through this together.” 

Dennis surges forward, his lips on Mac’s for an instant, soft and quick and a little salty from the tears but Mac doesn’t mind at all because he feels like there are fireworks exploding in his brain. They haven’t kissed in a long time. Mac forgot how perfect it was, his happiness temporarily staving off the guilt he knew would come later. 

“Thank you,” Dennis whispers against Mac’s mouth as he pulls away. 

Mac doesn’t really know if he’s ever been in love, but he thinks this may be the closest to it he’s ever experienced. He pulls Dennis into a hug, and he melts into the embrace. He really does feel small and frail in Mac’s arms.

“Let’s go get you some food, okay? I know something you’ll love.”

Mac can’t stop smiling now, and even though Dennis still looks exhausted, maybe Mac can see some life creeping back into his eyes.

Dennis looks nervous for a second, before his expression pinches in confusion. 

“Mac, I’m not eating Mexican food out of a goddamn trash bag.” 

“Come on, Den, just one. If you still don’t want it after you try it, we’ll order something else. Whatever you want.”

Dennis rolls his eyes but concedes.

“Fine. But don’t expect me to like it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to submit requests at alwayssunnyprompts.tumblr.com


End file.
